


They Say

by buckybleeds



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A/B/O, Amputation, Artificial Insemination, Breeding, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Forced Pregnancy, HYDRA wins, Hurt No Comfort, Just everything, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Milking, Milking Machines, Mpreg, Non Consensual Abortion, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, Quadruple amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, fuckpotato steve rogers, humans treated like animals, i'm just adding more tags as I remember more awful things to tag for, implied forced a/b/o gender 'correction', just warnings for everything, let's start with, no happy ending, non consensual EVERYTHING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybleeds/pseuds/buckybleeds
Summary: Alexander Pierce discovers that Steve Rogers is secretly an Omega and sends Brock Rumlow to capture him in the elevator by using his Voice and putting Steve into an Alpha hold.Steve wakes up in what he's pretty certain is either an omega milking farm or a brothel and the rest of his life is downhill from there.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100





	They Say

**Author's Note:**

> SO MANY WARNINGS
> 
> I'VE PROBABLY FORGOTTEN TO TAG SOMETHING
> 
> IF YOU AREN'T SURE THIS IS FOR YOU IT'S PROBABLY NOT FOR YOU
> 
> IF YOU WANNA KNOW IF A TAG OR SQUICK IS IN THERE AND I MISSED IS POST A COMMENT AND I'LL LET YOU KNOW
> 
> YOU WERE WARNED.

It was supposed to stay a secret. 

When Dr. Erskine let him come to Camp Lehigh, when Howard Stark put him in the Vita Ray machine, when Senator Brandt took him around the country - all of that was only allowed under one condition: Steve would take suppressants for the rest of his life, he would neutralize his scent, and the world would think of him as a Beta.

There was a good reason for it, and he was staring straight down the barrel of the alternative. 

He'd burned through his suppressants out of stress, Secretary Pierce had delicately sniffed at the air in his office and smiled when he sent Steve away, Rumlow had gotten into the elevator and stood behind him, and now Steve was on his hands and knees and panting into a hold because Captain America was an Omega.

***

He woke up and smelled heat around him and his blood went cold. 

One of the things Steve liked about this new world was how normal it had become to mask designations. You didn't walk down the street and get menaced or catcalled because someone caught your scent, Omegas could work outside of the home and not fear their coworkers would attempt to claim them, it was actually illegal for Alphas to use their Voice on anyone - even in families, even on their Omega partners.

But even in the forties smelling this many Omegas - God, oh god how many of them were in heat, it reeked of heat pheremones - would have been worrying. In this scentless, equal world it was terrifying. 

If there were this many unsuppressed, heat-struck Omegas in one place they didn't get there on their own and they didn't stay there because they wanted to. Steve was either in a brothel or on a farm and either way he needed to get out and get out fast. 

He examined his surroundings and what he found only made the scent of his fear heavier in the close air of the little room he was in. 

He was bent over a bench and strapped into an artificial presentation, legs spread and ass higher than his head. When he tried to rear up he immediately relaxed back into position and it took him a second to understand that he was wearing a hold collar - another illegal relic of the past that put pressure on this neck glands if he struggled too much. He let out a high whine for a second before he forced himself to stop the sound and continue cataloguing his surroundings. 

He was on a bench in a small room. He was still wearing the stealth suit, down to his boots and gloves. There were thick restraints pinning his wrists behind him and a hold collar keeping him docile. 

The little room was lined with closed cabinets that all had a thumbprint reader where a handle should have been and the bench was set up over a grated drain in the sloping center of the shining tile floor. 

Steve didn't let himself whine again but he very badly wanted to. 

He tried to wrestle with his bonds but he was dealing with professionals here. The cuffs around his wrists had big, smooth bulges that ground against his scent glands and made them throb and hurt more every time he moved. His thighs and ankles were strapped to padded rests in four places and bucking against the straps just drove the collar tighter over the back of his neck. 

Steve was well and truly trapped. 

***

Hours passed before the door to Steve's little room - stall, Christ, he was in a stall on a goddamned farm if the heat scent and the moaning and the absence of many alpha scents in the air were any indication - but when the door did open Steve started to struggle again. 

"Brock, please, you've gotta help me here - I know you, this isn't -"

"Quiet!" Brock barked, Voice laced with Alpha authority. Steve felt the words die on his tongue. 

"You will address me as Alpha and you will be polite. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please - A-alpha, help -"

"That ain't polite," Brock cut him off. "You will only speak to respond to a question or tell me if you are so ill or hurt it might kill you. Once you're in heat you're allowed to beg. Do you understand?" 

Steve gagged at the thought of going into heat like this, trapped and spread open for an Alpha who used his Voice like a weapon.

"Yes, Alpha," he managed to croak out. 

"How long have you been on suppressants?" 

Brock had laid a black bag on top of a row of cabinets and had pulled a bundle of papers out. He read from the top sheet as he started unbuckling Steve's boots.

"Since 1942."

"Have you had a heat since you started taking suppressants?"

"No, Alpha."

"Has an Alpha ever paired with you during a heat?"

The boots got wrestled off his feet. Steve closed his eyes when Rumlow pulled out a knife. 

"No, Alpha."

The knife paused where it was slicing open one of the arms of his jacket. 

"Have you ever had sex?"

"No, Alpha."

The knife started moving again and Steve caught a satisfied scent rising off of Rumlow. He shuddered. 

"So you've never been pregnant, never been mated?"

"No, Alpha."

Rumlow hummed, pleased, and kept cutting away Steve's clothing. The destroyed jacket got pulled out from underneath him and Rumlow went to work on the pants. 

"You been keeping yourself nice and tight for me, Sweetheart?"

"Fuck no, Alpha." Steve may have been trapped and terrified and compelled to behave by his biology, but he was still Steve Rogers. For now.

"Rude," Rumlow said, and smacked his ass before slicing the second leg of Steve's pants open. "You ever been milked?"

Steve cringed in place. 

"No, Alpha."

"Hmm. You're in for a lot of firsts then, Sweetheart."

Rumlow took the remnants of the pants off him and it was only the work of a moment to cut away Steve's boxers and athletic shirt and then it really started to sink in. 

He was unsupressed and naked on a breeding bench, open and defenseless against this cold, clinical Alpha who was starting to look and smell a little less cold. 

Rumlow reached between Steve's legs and fondled his tiny cock and small, hairless balls. 

"I don't know who they thought they were fooling, trying to pass this cute little thing off as a Beta."

Steve was forcing himself not to react, not to flinch away from that invasive, possessive touch. 

Brock dropped his hand and walked back to his black bag. He removed a small case that opened up to show a dozen sparkling syringes. 

The first injection hurt the most. Rumlow stood behind him and tugged on his sac, feeling around with his thumb until he found a vein to his liking and inserted the full length of the needle. The injection burned and seemed like it went on forever, stinging and aching even when Rumlow knelt in front of the bench and pressed a series of needles into and around Steve's nipples. 

Steve was sweating and panting by the time he was done, shaky and hazy. 

Rumlow hefted one last item out of his bag, a creaking mass of leather and metal. He removed the hold collar and went about strapping this contraption in its place. It was two pieces of thick leather. The front fitted at Steve's throat and split open below his collarbones to hook under his arms and terminate in thick loops of leather. The back covered his neck from his hairline to his trapezius muscles, ending in a broad strap that ran through the loops on the front piece. The stiff cuff it formed around his neck was more restrictive than the hold collar and forced his chin forward and his head down into a submissive position. The lower strap fastened below his sternum, framing his pecs obscenely, and locked in place with a miniature padlock, as did the overlapping buckles at the shoulders and on either side of his neck. 

Hold collars had been uncommon and frowned-upon in Steve's youth but this kind of claiming guard was the sort of thing he'd only seen in textbooks, and then only on the pages meant to scare young Omegas into behaving properly. Claiming guards were meant to stay on for a long time. They were meant to ensure that an Omega for shared use could be bred by multiple Alphas instead of claimed by one. 

It was the kind of thing that came from a time when the world at large considered Omegas things more than people.

Steve tried to twist away from Rumlow's hand and the back of the guard dug harshly into his neck, making his limbs go lax and his mind go quiet much harder than the hold collar. The hold collar was like a gentle hold - the claiming guard was like getting scruffed. 

Rumlow pulled one final lock out of his pocket and used it to clip the ring at the front of the guard to a matching ring at the end of the breeding bench. 

Steve was finding it harder and harder not to whine in his anxiety at what was happening. Rumlow patted his ass soothingly and Steve hated that it helped.

"You're gonna get a little alone time now, Sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much."

Steve tried to growl at him as he left the room but all he managed was a whimper.

***

It started with a small patch of sweat coalescing on his lower back, and from there his heat spread like wildfire.

The cold air in the little room seemed closer and thicker until his whole body was sheened in sweat and his lip was bitten red from holding back his moans. 

Steve had had heats induced before, back when he wasn't always healthy enough to have a natural heat - it was how he'd presented; he had been so late showing his designation that the cops had picked him up, found that he'd had no paperwork, and he'd been dropped off at a sanitarium and shot full of hormones until something gave way and fire exploded inside of him, leaving him wailing with want. 

It had been a week of screaming, sweating, and wishing he could die. Bucky had been beside himself with relief when Steve was released and managed to drag himself back to their apartment, and then he'd been beside himself with rage when he saw the bruises up and down Steve's arms and smelled Omega on him for the first time.

Steve hadn't cared. He'd just been glad that it was over.

That first painful, terrifying heat was nothing like this.

It came on rapidly, only an hour after Rumlow had walked out Steve felt his body dilate and start dripping, and less than three hours later he was crying and grinding his hips on the bench, trying anything to get some friction or feel something inside of him. 

Five hours later, when Rumlow came back, Steve was delirious. 

He'd thought he'd be able to hold back, preserve his dignity.

He was wrong.

"Please, please, Alpha, please help."

Rumlow smirked.

"Aww. You hurting baby?"

"Please, yes, please, need you, please - "

"Shhh," Rumlow said, and petted Steve's thigh, sending need spiraling through him. "You're real sweet when you want to be, baby. You gonna be good for me?"

"Yes, yes, be good, please, please it hurts, please fuck me, Alpha - "

"Hey, hey, shush. Just a few minutes, be good for a little while and I can give you what you need."

"Please," Steve moaned, and subsided into miserable sobs.

Rumlow stood behind Steve and set things down with clinks and clanks of glass and metal on the polished laminate of the countertops. Something heavy moved on the tile floor and Steve heard something being threaded together and twisted tight.

One warm hand pressed against his ass and gently gripped the cheek to pull him further open. Something heavy and cold rubbed against the slick dripping from his entrance. There was a click and a buzz and the wet, chilly, unyielding object surged forward to fill him before drawing back and shoving in again. Steve gagged at the sensation of the cool, hard thing that kept pulsing and thrusting and moving deeper inside of him every time it surged back in.

"Shhh, shhh baby. You just gotta be good. Just let it in. If you can take three hundred milliliters from the machine for me I'll give you a real knot to make it all better."

Steve was confused and horrified and didn't understand what that meant until the narrow tip of the device met some internal resistance and its thrusts got shorter but more forceful and and a sickening cracking, opening feeling drilled deep inside of him. He sobbed at the alien sensation of the machine forcing its way past his cervix until the head of the thing was through the ring of muscle and resting inside his uterus.

It felt wrong and sick - too deep and too cold, he felt like he was bruising on the inside.

Then he felt the warmth and pressure as it began to pump semen into his heat-ripe uterus and Steve finally understood what was happening.

"Please, please, Alpha, please, no, n-not like this, please - "

"Shhh, sweetheart. You're doing so good. It's from a good, strong Alpha, a good sire. He's special like you, and you're gonna make beautiful, strong, special babies for us."

"I - why are - _I can't_ \- " the inseminator kept pumping away and he could feel his body reacting to the Alpha hormones in the come it was filling him with; he wanted to throw up or scream but his hips sagged and his hole got slicker and hungrier and the ache of the machine stuffing semen directly into his womb started to feel more tantalizing than terrifying.

"You're gonna be a good little breeder. I just know it, you'll make strong, perfect soldiers, and maybe someday if I'm lucky or loyal I'll get a chance to fill you up all on my own and watch you make my children into miracles just like you."

Steve sobbed until the inseminator was withdrawn and tried to curl into himself when it was pulled out of him. The breeding bench held him too well to allow it.

"I know, I know that was a lot, Sweetheart, but you're doing so good holding all that in. Just one more little pinch here," Rumlow was carefully guiding a syringe inside of Steve. He felt it jab into something and then felt his bruised, dilated cervix spasm painfully shut.

"Why are you doing this to me," Steve whimpered as his body was racked with shudders.

Rumlow kissed the top of his head and ruffled his sweaty hair.

"You did it to yourself, Sweetheart. If you wanna be perfect you can't blame people for noticing."

Rumlow was unbuckling his belt. Without the chill metal of the inseminator filling him Steve was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm again, and the motions of Rumlow's hands as they unbuttoned his pants and slid down the zipper became hypnotic.

"You want a knot to make it feel better, Honey?"

Steve wanted to die.

A cramp and a wave of intolerable heat rippled through his body.

"Please, Alpha," he whispered.

"Ask me nice."

"Please, Alpha. Please fuck me. Please give me your knot," He couldn't put any color or desire into the words. He hurt and he wanted it to end. He was lost and confused.

"Say 'Please, Alpha, I want you to wreck my virgin ass.'"

Steve did.

"Say 'Please, Alpha, use my cherry cunt.'"

Steve did. 

"I think we'll try again later when you really understand how generous I'm being when I offer this to you."

"Please, Alpha, use my cherry cunt," Steve said, face blank and eyes far away, and Brock stormed out of the room.

***

Forty minutes later Steve was screaming.

His body hated being full of come without having been knotted - the Alpha hormones from the semen were being absorbed into his bloodstream, making in tremendously present in the moment as they took away the hazy, drifting feeling Omegas usually had during their heats - but since he hadn't been knotted none of the healing Omega hormones had released, and he felt like his abused uterus was going to explode.

"Alpha, please Alpha, want you in me," he'd started five minutes ago and couldn't stop gibbering. "Need you inside me, want your fat cock splitting me open, want your thick knot to show me what fucking is, please, please, Alpha please - " he heard footsteps in the hall and redoubled his efforts "want you to wreck me for everyone else, want you to break me open, want you as my first, Alpha, please Alpha, use me and stain me and ruin me for every knot but yours, Alpha, please, _please_ \- "

The door opened and Rumlow's pleased scent washed over Steve, soothing him and making him whine and try to arch his back further to present more.

"Please I need you, I need you I want you to fuck me open until I'm dripping, want your come running down my leg and marking me, Alpha, Alpha - "

Rumlow's hands were opening his pants again and then they were smoothing over Steve's skin, petting his sides before he stroked over Steve's ass and settled his thumbs in the crease where his cheeks met his thighs.

"You coulda made this easier, Sweetheart."

"I'm sorry, Alpha, I'm sorry I'm stupid please let me earn your cock and your knot - "

Rumlow rutted the warm, latex-covered flesh of his prick up against Steve's winking, wet hole.

"You're a good baby, when you're motivated enough," he said, and thrust inside.

Steve's breath stuttered and he absolutely melted into the sensation. An Alpha's cock was nothing like the inseminator or his hands or the hard rubber dilators he'd used when he was younger. An Alpha's cock was _good_. An Alpha's cock was _right._ Steve didn't even realize he'd started purring.

"Thank you, Alpha, thank you, please, please fill me up please I'm sorry I made you wait, Alpha - "

"Fuckin' Christ, you're a goddamned furnace, baby. Were you hurting for it that bad?"

"Please, Alpha, please make it better please, Sir, it hurts - "

"Aww, my baby boy. Shhh, stop talking now Sweetheart, just let me help you out."

And Steve did, floating on the overwhelming perfection of a hot cock filling him and easing the aches inside of him until Rumlow's knot popped and Steve's eyes rolled back at the intolerable pleasure of the sudden increase of girth his body was forced to accommodate.

Steve came on Rumlow's knot and purred himself to sleep as the Alpha he was tied to gently petted his hair.

***

He woke up to the inseminator thrusting inside of him again and it felt like a long, long time before he stopped crying.

***

Pre-serum Steve's heats had been unpredictable, miserable week-long affairs, and he'd never had a heat after Project Rebirth. He was surprised that it took only three days for the heat to pass and more surprised that Rumlow stopped using him when it did.

The Strike commander removed the lock holding Steve's neck down to the bench and released the straps around his legs, helping the omega to slowly sit up. Steve didn't know what was happening and froze in terror.

Rumlow rolled his eyes.

"We're not doing this to torture you, Cap. We're trying to get shit done. So stop looking like you think I'm about to electrocute you because if everything went well everybody should be really nice and gentle with you for the next forty or so weeks."

Steve looked at the ground. It was the only place that the claiming guard would let him look. He wanted to throw up.

"What are you going to do with me," he whispered.

"Whatever we want," Brock replied with a smile.

***

He was taken to a room with a bed and a toilet and a sink with a deep basin. 

He was pretty sure they were drugging his food or the air or the water because time must have passed but he hadn't felt it passing, only looked down one day to see an alien bulge distorting the sculpted musculature of his abdomen.

Food came through a flap in the door, water came from the sink, and nothing else came from anywhere because nobody was talking to him or checking on him or if they were he didn't remember. He ate and he slept and washed himself and looked at the growing thing in front of him that sometimes rolled and kicked and became unbearably, unignorably a baby and tried to sleep more.

***

He woke up in a chair with stirrups, his legs spread wide and his hands strapped down over his head.

It was nice as a change of pace, at least.

"God, you gotta be an overachiever for everything, dontcha?"

Steve didn't respond. There wasn't much you could really say back to a statement like that.

"At sixteen weeks you're nearly ready to pop, and Cap Junior here is big enough to get a little attention of his own."

Steve frowned. He didn't like that. Didn't want anyone looking at his weird alien rape baby. It was an alien rape baby but it was still his. 

Rumlow rubbed a cool substance over Steve's stomach and prodded at him with a humming wand. It made a picture of his insides.

Rumlow reached inside of him with his hands and a metal claw and a needle a thousand feet long and Steve passed out.

***

Steve woke up on his hands and knees with a curved bench holding his pelvis up and spreading his thighs wide and holding them close to his chest. He looked at the bench. He'd heard of these. It wasn't a breeding bench, it was a birthing bench. He felt the lump in his belly flutter and wiggle. It was just little. It wasn't ready for birthing.

Somebody was puttering around in the space behind him. Steve's guess was Rumlow.

"Rise and shine, Sweetheart. We've got good news."

"You already told me it's a boy," Steve grumbled.

"Hah, somebody's grumpy when he comes up from the drugs. But that's not what I'm talking about."

Steve felt something cold and metal probing at his hole and grunted when Rumlow pushed it into him without waiting for him to slick up or preparing him with any lube. He heard a clicking noise and the thing inside of him got bigger - a speculum, Rumlow was opening him up with a speculum.

Steve clenched his hands into fists and realized he was wearing the claiming guard and vibranium cuffs again. 

"So what are you talking about," Steve asked.

"I'm talking about the fact that we've just tested and we've just discovered that the Super Soldier Serum is not genetically heritable."

Steve felt his pulse quicken. If the Serum wasn't genetically heritable there sure were a lot of problems Steve had had before the Serum that were. 

Was his baby sick? Was Rumlow examining him?

"Aren't there doctors for this?"

Rumlow smiled nastily.

"I guess I never did get around to telling you. I used to work summers with my uncle in Connecticut, learned my way around a dairy pretty well by the time I graduated high school. Cows, of course. Not like this. Not exactly. But close enough. Almost considered doing that instead of joining the Army. Lucky for you I went the other way, huh?"

Steve's face reddened and humiliated tears filled his eyes.

"Fuck you, Rumlow."

Brock just shrugged and went back to his work, ratcheting the speculum open another centimeter.

"If an Alpha or Beta woman gets pregnant you need a doctor. It's risky, there's a lot of delicate systems that need to be preserved. But an Omega? You don't even have to call the vet to help out, any old farmhand will do."

He slid four fingers into Steve's hole and hummed before adjusting the tool again, cranking it open so wide that Steve felt like his insides might fall out.

"Please, Alpha, it hurts," he whispered. It was hard for any Alpha to hurt a pregnant Omega, even one that wasn't carrying their child. 

Rumlow patted Steve's rump comfortingly and then there was a burning coldness in his back and he lost the ability to move or feel anything below that point in his body.

"Alpha," he whined, letting the worry seep into his voice.

"Nerve block," Rumlow responded, ruffling a hand through Steve's hair before he reached out to a tray of silver-colored tubes on the counter.

"Why is it good that the Serum doesn't get passed down? I thought you wanted perfect babies and now you can't have that." Not that Steve wanted to give Rumlow or whoever he was working for or whoever he had been inseminated by perfect babies, just that if they didn't want that he didn't know what they wanted him for.

"Because that means you don't have to spend the next hundred years getting fucked full of kids twice a year."

Rumlow picked up a syringe off the counter.

Steve tried to control his breathing. 

He'd been confused, he'd been scared. He hadn't been thinking about the future. Hadn't been thinking about how long this could possibly last and now that he was thinking about it this could very reasonably last forever.

It had already been at least four months.

Why had nobody come for him?

Who was Rumlow doing this for?

"Your tits are leaking," he said, very calmly, and Steve's eyes darted down to his chest. 

He was right. There were little beads of white rolling out of him and off of him. He looked down further and saw his belly ripple. A big movement. He thought it was strange he couldn't feel it.

Rumlow set down the empty syringe and traded it for a long, thin piece of metal with a loop at the end.

Steve's face got hot and he felt his eyes filling with tears.

A drop of blood hit the floor between Rumlow's feet.

"Alpha?" He whispered.

"It's okay, Sweetheart," Rumlow murmured back.

"Alpha, please don't, please," the whisper was climbing.

"He's already gone, Honey. Didn't feel a thing. You won't even miss him, I promise."

"Alpha - my - my baby? Please?"

"Shhh, Honey. He was never your baby anyway."

***

Rumlow scraped him out and sewed a cybernetic implant into the hole where his baby had been. He assured Steve that the stitches were temporary and that the implant had enough nanotechnology in it to fully root itself in his raw, empty womb in the next two days.

He'd seemed unimpressed with Steve's catatonic stare but had just rolled his eyes and moved the Omega to his knees so he could better seat the injections to his chest.

Steve looked at the ground. It was the only place that the claiming guard would let him look. 

Rumlow called Rollins into the room.

Rollins was the first person Steve had seen besides Rumlow in months.

Rollins didn't look at Steve, just helped lift him onto his back and into the stirrups of an examination table and then carefully positioned a tube and a needle between Steve's legs and then carefully threaded a cold steel hoop through the head of his cock and he didn't even feel it past the nerve block. 

He did feel it when Rollins duplicated the process with the sensitive cartilage of his septum but couldn't make himself care enough to move or flinch or do anything but stare at the ceiling and wonder why they'd taken his baby.

Rollins left and Rumlow pressed his thumb to the little plastic box, no bigger than a pack of playing cards, that made it so that Steve hadn't felt it when his baby died.

The pain rushed in all at once and Steve strained his legs against the stirrups holding him open.

"Shhh, shhh, baby be good, I know it hurts," Rumlow was chanting. He smelled sharper than normal, more Alpha and more feral.

"You're so beautiful and you're so good, Honey, Sweetheart, so good for me." Rumlow's cock was butting up against Steve's distended, hurting hole.

"Never gonna let another Alpha put his fucking whelp inside you again, Sweetheart," he cooed, and slammed his full length into Steve all at once, so hard and fast that Steve choked with it and started crying again.

"You took my baby," Steve cried, "you killed my baby, goddamnit why did you - "

The Alpha snarled at him and tugged sharply at the fresh piercing in Steve's cock. 

"Shut the fuck up, hole," he growled, "your mine but you'd let anyone fill you up, let anyone stretch out your cunt and squirt their filthy pups into you. I saved you from that, saved you from being just another fucking bitch in the kennel. You're too good for that, too good for everyone to touch and that's because you're mine. Now I'm never going to have to smell the stink of another Alpha growing their seed in your cunt, you slutty, fucked-out hole," he thrust inside harder each time the thought of another Alpha in his territory crossed his mind and Steve squirmed and whined, blood running from between his legs to soak his back and the crinkly paper of the examination table. 

Rumlow worked himself into a frenzy and when he finally knotted his front was spattered in blood and Steve was nearly unconscious from the hurt of it.

"You'll never let someone put their baby in you ever again, fucking slut."

Steve panted through the pain until he couldn't really feel anything anymore, and all the lights faded in a sea of stars.

***

The next day Rumlow massaged his chest for twenty minutes and traded the hoops in his nose and cock for hoops that were thicker and heavier.

A week later Rumlow was rubbing at pecs that had swollen and softened into something approaching breasts and he'd stopped increasing the size of the nose ring, trading it one final time for a plain gold hoop about the thickness of a pencil lead and about as big around as a quarter.

Two weeks in Rumlow was expressing a few tablespoons of milk from Steve's chest every four hours and the ring that passed in through the top of his cock and out through his urethra was as thick as a tube of chapstick and heavy enough that he couldn't get hard unless he was lying on his back. Rumlow had changed it out for the final time on the fourteenth day of his new routine and had invited Rollins to participate for reasons that were unclear until the larger man very carefully welded the hoop shut and filed the weld smooth. 

Steve had lived in the claiming guard in a cage at the foot of Rumlow's bed for those two weeks. It was embarrassing when Rumlow clipped a leash to the hoop in Steve's nose and led him through empty hallways with his hands behind his back but it was something of a relief to find himself back in a room full of stalls and the smell of Omegas. 

The stalls were a bad place to be, but Rumlow's room was worse.

Steve balked when he was bent over a milking stand but there was no arguing with the claiming guard and he was locked to the crossbar of the stand in short order. 

Rumlow took a pouch of syringes out of his pocket and Steve flinched away from them but had nowhere to go as Rumlow emptied two into the soft flesh of Steve's pecs and one into the sensitive, tender head of his cock just above where the piercing passed through him. 

Rumlow fitted two cups over his chest and and walked away, leaving Steve bent over a metal rack with teacups on his tits and his legs spread, feeling ridiculous.

The pumping started ten minutes later and the moan that came out of Steve when he first felt it was obscene. 

It felt - 

It felt like - 

Steve had never had his dick sucked, not since he'd presented and it shrank down to the tiny thing below him, but he imagined that's what it would feel like to have someone gently lower their mouth onto him and draw him inside and lave at his sensitive flesh with warm, wet tongues.

The milking cups felt incredible and Steve whimpered as they changed intensity or kneaded at his tender, aching nipples. It could have been ten minutes or two hours and Steve wouldn't have been able to tell, he just leaned into the incredible sensation, occasionally taking note of himself enough to see that his cock was dripping past the obstruction of the ring in his urethra and his thighs were shining with the slick that had run down them.

He didn't see when Rumlow walked into the room but at some point he caught the bittersmoke smell of the Alpha and whined up at him.

"Please, please Alpha," he sighed, and Rumlow smiled indulgently.

"Please what, Sweetheart?"

"More, please," he moaned pitifully.

"Fuck me, Alpha. Please fuck me, I want to feel your knot in me while I'm dripping like this, please."

Dimly there was an echo inside of Steve's head that wondered what had happened to him, and where his shame had gone.

The echo got drowned out when Rumlow put three fingers in him.

"I don't know, Honey. Have you done anything to earn a good fucking?"

Steve shook his head and sobbed in frustration.

"No! No, please, but I want it, Sir, Alpha, please - "

"Shhh, shh. Don't cry baby. I'll take care of you."

Rumlow loosened his pants and pulled his cock out, appreciating the view of Steve in the milking stand so conveniently positioned for riding, and pushed into the wet hole waiting for him.

Steve wailed and came immediately, the pitch of the milking machine rising as the suction had to compensate for the sudden burst of milk that accompanied his orgasm. 

Rumlow grinned like a feral thing and humped into Steve until he almost couldn't take it anymore, pulling out at the last second to come over the Super Soldier's back. 

Steve was crying, hips twitching and hole gaping, as Rumlow rubbed his spend into the tanned, golden skin.

Rumlow stood and kissed the sweating Omega's cheek, and waited until he was at the door before he activated the remote control vibrator in Steve's cock piercing.

The howl that followed him down the hallway was cheerfully counterpointed by the increasing pitch of the milking machine.

***

Steve was hazy on time. It had been -

Time - 

Days? Weeks? A year?

It had been a long time that Rumlow had pulled him out of his stall every morning and put him in his milking stand and filled him with fucking machines and left him in bliss until late, late, late in the day.

Actually Steve couldn't quite remember the last time he'd been taken off the stand to sleep. Maybe Rumlow just left him there, letting him feel beautiful and full and fucked and wet always and always.

Rumlow took him off the stand today and even stranger, took him to a room with an exam table. He gently guided Steve's legs where he wanted them to go and by the time that Steve remembered he wanted to get away, wanted to run, wanted to die, he was already strapped down and Rumlow's hand was rubbing over his chest and soothing all those thoughts out of his head.

Rumlow turned on a screen next to Steve and put two fingers in his drippy cunt and he moaned adoringly while more people traipsed into the room.

"Good to see you, Brock. It's been too long, you should come to London more." Steve's claiming guard kept him from examining the old man with the sardonic drawl but he knew that voice. He was afraid of that voice. Rumlow's fingers wiggled inside of him and he forgot everything else besides that incredible, slick, filling sensation.

"Well, you know Sir, things are busy around here. The Capitol is lovely but someone has to make sure the power companies stay up."

"And that the threats stay down, clearly. You've done a beautiful job with him."

"All his fault, I assure you. He's too perfect to fail. Dosages that terminated unenhanced subjects just make him more productive and eager to please."

"Ah. So, Stark didn't make it?"

"Unfortunately no. And the conversion attempt on Wilson failed. We're still making good progress on the research with the Soldier and the Widow."

"Of course, of course. You've been keeping me posted. But what have you got for me today? What's the big reveal?"

"Chancellor. We've increased production to four liters daily for six months now. There hasn't been a single drop in the Serum expression. We've tested it on prison volunteers for the same amount of time with no ill effects and as of this week the first of those volunteers has survived the chair. Congratulations, Chancellor."

Steve frowned, he didn't know a chancellor, he - the Serum - it wasn't supposed to - Rumlow pushed another two fingers into him and his tense expression smoothed out at the simple joy of being filled like he needed to be.

"Remarkable. How have you been able to keep up that level of output?"

"The implant. It convinces his body that he's in the late stages of a pregnancy with a primordial litter and needs to overproduce far above modern standards. It's unfortunate that we're not able to breed more soldiers out of him but with the milk we can select pre-vetted subjects and don't need to wait for them to age into usefulness."

"Wonderful. What's the next step?"

"The subject who survived the chair - we're seeing if she'll tolerate hormonal dosages on a level like Rogers has, see if we can force the same kind of expression and generate the same kind of serum output."

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Brock, you have cemented HYDRA's place in history."

"I wouldn't say that yet, sir. We've got a long way to go and a lot of research to complete. Which brings me to the last step we'd like to bring all of these subjects to."

"Of course; what's our plan for your little Sweetheart here?"

Rumlow was twisting his hand, sliding it out and pushing in with all his fingers and his thumb aimed into the core of Steve, filling him with sparkling light and glowing shadows.

"He's still a risk. More than a day without his injections and he can become violent; his strength is still overwhelming and we need to keep him in a guard constantly to prevent him from attacking his keepers - even if it's totally unintentional. I'd like permission to proceed with surgically neutralizing him and a permanent chemical solution."

The hand inside of him was thrusting deliciously, making him keen and want and forcing out cool rivulets of milk that ran down his body to drip over his weeping cock.

"You're a sick bastard, Brock. I'm glad you're on the side of the angels. Proceed, and feel free to document and share that process with me."

"Of course, Chancellor. Hail HYDRA."

"Hail Hydra."

***

The nerve block was higher this time. Not near his waist, closer to his - actually, he couldn't feel anything below his neck.

It was unusual - nearly alien. He was always so distracted by the sensations on his cock and his tits and inside his hole that he could hardly think past them but now, like this, just a head - 

Had Rumlow called Secretary Pierce Chancellor and hailed HYDRA with him?

The light above Steve was taking on a less glittery quality and as it solidified into totally normal fluorescent hospital lights it really seemed like Rumlow had indicated that Pierce was the Chancellor of London and they were both HYDRA?

Had - had Rumlow said that Tony was dead?

"Rise and shine, Sweetheart. We've got good news."

Steve scowled.

"The last time you told me that you killed my baby and turned me into a goddamned cow. Did you kill Tony Stark?"

Rumlow chuckled.

"I'm going to miss that. You're so sharp, even now, if there's nothing bothering you."

"Are you going somewhere? Taking a long walk of a short pier?"

Rumlow crossed the room to sit beside Steve on the hospital bed. Steve looked down to the body he couldn't feel and temporarily lost all of his sense and senses to panic.

He was uncovered, only wearing a monitor taped to his abdomen.

His legs terminated above the knee and his arms ended two inches below his elbows on either side.

"God, you are my absolute favorite, always, every day in every way, Sweetheart." Brock forced him over onto his front and slapped at the nerve block on his neck.

Incredible, overwhelming pain assaulted Steve from every angle, so intense he didn't realize Brock had fucked into him and was riding him until he ripped his full knot out of Steve's body while he convulsed in pain. 

At some point he passed out.

He hoped he'd never wake up.

***

He didn't hurt when he woke up but he woke up crying anyway.

He wasn't in a hospital recovery room, he wasn't in his stall. He was outside, wrapped in a soft robe and settled with his head in Rumlow's lap on a warm blanket over cool grass surrounded by roses and the fading light of late summer sunshine.

"Why," was all he could say.

"Because I wanted you, and I wanted no one else to have you." Rumlow leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

"You unmade me. You say you wanted me but you took everything that made me me."

The Alpha's grin was feral.

"I took it and I made it mine. You wouldn't share. You wouldn't give it away. Somebody was going to take it. I wanted that somebody to be me."

"Please, Alpha," Steve said, tears running from his eyes as he tipped his chin up in empty submission - "please, kill me."

Rumlow kissed his forehead again.

"That's what we're here for, Sweetheart. I just figured you'd want to sit a while and see the stars before you go."

"No," Steve sobbed, "do it now, please, please I don't want to be like this anymore."

"Okay, Sweetheart," Rumlow said, and opened his ever-present case of syringes. 

***

The first shot made him dizzy with want and Steve realized he'd been tricked - he squirmed and whined as Rumlow lined up the second needle, feeling it press into him and weeping as his thoughts slipped into the instinctual simplicity of pleasing his alpha. 

Rumlow gave him a final kiss before the third syringe, brushing aside tears with his thumb.

"Goodbye, Steve."

"Fuck you, asshole," Steve said, and then his eyes went wide and soft and none of the sharp, clever soldier stayed behind in him.

Rumlow watched as Rogers' shortened limbs twitched a few times, listened to see if the apish waggling of his jaw would let loose any more words but within two minutes the effects had settled and his Sweetheart's big blue eyes had sought out his Alpha and started whining for satisfaction.

"Aww, are you hungry baby? Do you need something to fill you up?"

Sweetheart whimpered and spread what legs he had to spread. 

"You need a knot, Honey?"

The poor thing was crying, trying to find any way to twist itself to grind on its Alpha.

"Think you could take a knot in your mouth? Would that fill you up right?"

Sweetheart opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

It turned out he could take a knot there.

***

A Very Long Time Later

They say that deep in the salt swamp there's a temple built to a mad god.

They say the god built the world for his lover then cursed his lover when he refused the world that was offered.

They say the god fed his lover to the hydra and that's when the world fell into darkness.

They say inside that temple there's a fountain.

They say the fountain is all that's left of the man who turned away the world.

They say he's pale and blind and always hungry, trapped in living stone that fondles and fills and feeds him and that it's never enough.

They say that if you wish to drink of the fountain you must bring gifts.

They say that in its chamber there are many swords and bows and nuclear warheads and a strange old ringing shield and a suit of armor with glowing eyes that speaks with a man's voice sometimes.

They say that there are bars of gold and precious stones and worked leather and furs from the farthest parts of the world laid before the fountain.

They say that you must bring it gifts but that the only gift it asks for is death and _that_ you must never offer because the fountain is life, and to end him would be to end all of us.

They say these things. 

They don't say which of these things is true.


End file.
